


The Delicacies of a Hawke

by Alarir



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/F, Implied/Referenced Incest, Masturbation, Masturbation Interruptus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 12:21:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22496026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alarir/pseuds/Alarir
Summary: A tired Hawke has her train of thought interrupted by her younger sister.
Relationships: Athenril/Female Hawke, Bethany Hawke & Female Hawke
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	1. A Moment's Reprieve

Hawke was frustrated. The smuggling work seemed to be providing very little gold, but at least it kept her hands relatively clean. She cared about that, as much for Bethany's sake as for her own. She didn't want her little sister to be forced to murder, simply to survive. It would do, for now. Even more frustratingly, however, Athenril had yet to make anything of Hawke's advances.

Hawke liked her. Not in a particularly deep or meaningful way, but Athenril was a competent elf. She had a pretty curve to her lips, a quick wit, and a head of red hair. This on top of her relatively moral bearing, were all things that Hawke liked. And as of yet, there was nothing she could do about it. At least, nothing she could do with Athenril.

It was a rare evening that Bethany was out, working on something without her sister, but it did mean that Hawke was alone in their dingy room. She had the top of the grubby bunkbeds, and at least the sheets had been cleaned by their mother last night. Despite living in squalor, she still wanted to keep her children well. Hawke had gotten rid of her armour, and now lay beneath her covers, wearing a pair of functional linen knickers and a shift. Not exactly sexy, she thought to herself wryly, Athenril wouldn't be impressed.

She thought of the redhead's smirking face as she slipped a hand into her underwear, her calloused fingertips brushing over the slightly furred mount of her sex. She liked shaving when she could, but it was hardly a priority these days. Unlike these private moments for herself. Her blue eyes closed, letting her imagination carry her from this horrible little room.

She imagined sitting in a little booth in a fancy tavern, an arm around Athenril's shoulders. In reality, her fingertips nudge against the hood on her sex, her breath quickening as the hidden clit is teased by herself. The vision soon becomes more, her lips locked around Athenril's, human and elven tongues vying for dominance, two muscular bodies leaning into each other as they make out heavily. Her fingers press harder, applying more pressure to her nub as she feels her body reacting to her fantasy and touches. She reaches up, her other hand squeezing her left breast, feeling the stiffness of her nipple, even as her mind turns the hand into Athenril's more delicate elven fingers.

She now lies on a bed with the elf, having left their clothing and armour elsewhere. A slender elven hand goes between her legs, brushing the softness of her lips, feeling the moist arousal there before a finger slips inside. Just the tip. A soft gasp escapes from her lips as her own finger enters herself, feeling the warmth and the pulsing of her walls. She keeps the pressure on her nub with her thumb, using her finger to spread some of her arousal upwards, before sliding it deeper into herself. She knows how much she can take and when, and enjoys the feeling of stroking the soft ridges inside. She wonders, how would an elf feel? How would she taste?

She imagines diving between those slender, pale thighs, using her hands to spread them apart as she gazes on the small tuft of dark red hair, different from her own black strands. She imagines the elven sex to be cute and slim, the lips pink and narrow. She can almost feel the taste on her lips as she leans in to kiss, can almost smell the forbidden nectar. Her lust fogged brain provides her with a similar experience, bringing her hand slick with her own juices to her lips, inhaling her own scent as she imagines the difference between her and Athenril. She slides the finger over her mouth to breathe in the taste, her tongue gathering some of her liquid excitement, the taste reminding her this is Hawke pussy, not elven.

At that thought, the face of the elf changes to that of a more familial resemblance, of her younger sister Bethany. Hawke can feel her cheeks burning, her heart thumping, at this instinctual image. She pauses in her movements for a fraction of a second, or it feels like it, trying to banish the image of Bethany from her mind. How long since she has seen her sister naked? What is her body like under those robes? Her mind swells with the image of Bethany's buxom form, her sister having filled out over the past few years, her breasts full and soft. Does her sister shave, down there, like she does? She hides her shaving from Bethany, for fear of embarrassment. She imagines her sister carefully working a sharp knife near her precious sex- And Hawke realizes that a finger is deep inside herself again, kneading at her clit once more, this time as her mind wanders about her sister. Her cheeks burn with the shame of it, but she doesn't stop. She needs this release. Bethany is a grown woman, and Hawke wonders about that taste- would it be like her own? Do all Hawke cunts taste alike? She feels her finger pumping quicker inside herself, deeper, her breath increasing with the thump of her heart. She tenses her muscles, and can feel her climax approaching quicker than usual- She can't think why, or how, only focuses on an image of her sister's face lost in orgasmic pleasure, imagines the forbidden taste of her, as her fingers quicken, and-

“Are you awake?” Bethany's voice is soft as she enters the room, the door clicking shut behind her.


	2. Sibling Closeness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke and Bethany find themselves closer than ever before, discovering things about each other.

Hawke's heart is pounding in her ears. In her lust filled state, she mustn't have heard the door open. Bethany knows. Her panicking mind tells her; Bethany knows she was getting off to her own incestuous thoughts. All of this happens in an instant as she hears her sister's voice. She feels the sweat beading on her body, causing her shift to stick to her breasts, her hardened nipples rubbing against the fabric. Her hand is still in her underwear, which is no doubt darkened with her sweat and lubrication. She shifts slightly to pull the hand out, and thinks, perhaps she can pretend to be asleep. It's not even that late.

Bethany moves into the room, setting her staff against the corner with a little thunk. Hawke doesn't lift her head, and closes her eyes. She can do this. Her thumping heart needs to stop racing, that burning need between her legs she can ignore. But then she hears something that she can't ignore. There's a sniffle from Bethany. The lamp is already dulled in the room, shaded to give Hawke some gloom, and Bethany snuffs it out. There's another sniffle, and Hawke leans up on her elbows.

“Beth?” She says softly, her voice not betraying the turmoil of annoyance, arousal and concern going on inside.

“I thought you were asleep.” Bethany confesses quietly. She lights up a small flicker of blue radiance in her hand, a magical pulse illuminating her. 

Hawke considers how she must look, propped up on her elbow, her short dark hair scattered slightly from her solo tumbling, blue eyes reflecting the magic. Bethany's eyes are dark, but Hawke considers how pretty she looks, her hair dark and loose flowing down to her shoulders The light source next to her hip draws Hawke's eyes there. Perhaps it's because her blood is pumping, but she notices how slim her sister's waist is. Her cream shirt is tight to go under her well fitting robes, and it dangles down, tied at the waist, stopping at the top of her pale thighs. Even when wearing her robes, Bethany likes to show a little chest, she knows it helps her get places in the city, and Hawke notices it now. The dip between her breasts is in shadow, and the blue light is bright of the curves to one side.

“It's okay.” Bethany says, wiping her eyes with her hand, extinguishing the light.

Hawke grits her teeth in the darkness, and starts shuffling to the edge of her bed, climbing down to the floor easily. Bethany shuffles about in the dark, but there's enough ambient light that Hawke can see her.

“Beth...” She says again, as her sister moves to her own bed, the wooden frame creaking and mattress groaning as Bethany climbs into it. Hawke considers just climbing back up and going to sleep, but then she shakes her head to herself. She needs to do the right thing.

She sits down on the edge of her sister's bed, the old frame creaking under her weight. She can't exactly sit up easily, so is bent over. She reaches out, feeling for Bethany, her hand going onto her sister's bicep.

“What's wrong, Beth?” She asks softly. There's another sniffle, and Bethany turns to her, she can feel her move. Bethany actually shuffles a bit backwards in the bed, and Hawke frowns slightly. “You want to talk later?” There's a flicker of that blue light again, and Bethany's face is illuminated. Her eyes shine in the magic light, with unshed tears. She whispers softly. “Come lie with me. Don't hurt your neck.”

Hawke's heartbeat raises again, her sister asking her to share a bed. Her mind flickers to what she was doing only minutes before, but she banishes the image with a lick of her lips. She leans to the side, sliding onto the covers of Bethany's bed. When she looks back to Bethany's face, she can see those dark eyes are looking down at her body. Before she says anything, her face close to her sister's, Bethany whispers. 

“You weren't asleep. I can see that. I'm sorry.” Hawke feels her cheeks burn a little from what her sister implies. Her rumpled shift and sweat patches. Does she know? “Beth...” She begins awkwardly, before her sister interrupts her. “So, Athenril still doesn't like you that way?” She has a small smile, and Hawke feels her cheeks burn afresh. Her breath quickens slightly. “You- It's normal, to need release, okay?” Bethany lets the mage-light float above them a little bit, and then puts her hand on Hawke's lips. “Shh. I'm sorry. It's just...been a while since I did that.” Her own cheeks darken a little but she looks...sad.

Hawke frowns. She brings her own hand up to take Bethany's from her mouth. Bethany's nostril's flare slightly, as she audibly inhales. Hawke feels her cheeks colour again; she used the hand that was inside herself a few minutes ago, her own Hawkish pussy scent having dried onto her hand. She pretends to ignore that sniff, swallowing. “It's alright to touch yourself, Bethany.” She says in a whisper. They've never really spoken about these intimate matters. She loves her sister, but never wanted to think about her with a hand between her legs. Her heartbeat rises again, at a flicker of that image, as Bethany replies.

“I haven't wanted to. Not since Carver.”

A cold trickle filters down Hawke's spine. Their dead brother. Bethany's twin. How long has it been? Months? A year?

“Beth...” She says, her heart breaking in her voice. She reaches out to cup her sister's cheek, forgetting it's that hand with her dried fluid, her thumb stroking the softness of her face. Bethany's dark eyes flicker down, and she looks shameful.

“I...sister, I'm ashamed.” Her voice says quietly, trembling. Hawke feels a sense of purpose. She lost one sibling, she won't lose another. She leans in to speak to Bethany softly, lest they wake their mother, her breath washing over her younger sister's lips. “Bethany. Never be ashamed of your body, honey.” 

Bethany's dark eyes meet Hawke's, and her own pulse seems to be rising, her breath quickening slightly. “It's the way he made me feel.” Hawke feels her confusion visible on her face, as she mumbles. “He made you feel ashamed?” Bethany's cheeks darken again in the bluish light. “No. The opposite. We made each other feel...amazing.” 

Hawke's heart thumps in her chest. She takes in what Bethany has said. She knew the twins were close, and rarely left each other's sides. It's why his death hit Bethany hardest. But from what her sister was saying now, this private confession to her last remaining sibling.

“Beth.” Hawke says softly. “You're my sister. I don't care. I love you, and I loved Carver. He would want you to...be happy.” She finishes a little hoarsely, swallowing. She's not entirely sure what she means, but her heart has picked up again. Bethany's eyes are on hers. Her young sister speaks in a hushed whisper.

“We knew mother wouldn't understand, and we were scared you would tell her. But we felt...as one. When he was inside me...” Bethany squirms slightly in the covers, and Hawke finds her breath catching. They didn't just help themselves masturbate, they were lovers. And now Bethany was clearly aroused at the memory, frustrated, by her expression. Hawke licks her lips, and feeling her heart pounding in her ears, speaks.

“Beth- Touch yourself. Think of him.” Her voice is a thick whisper. Bethany's eyes are on hers as her hand goes under the covers. Her lips open slightly, an exhaling of breath. Hawke's blue eyes can't help but move down, watching as the lump of Bethany's hand under the covers moves between the two mounds of her legs. Her knees part and rise up slightly, giving herself room. She can feel herself getting wet again, her body reacting to her arousal at the forbidden scene. Her eyes flick back up to Bethany's.

“Did I stop you? When I came in.” Bethany asks softly. Hawke slowly nods her head, deciding to tell the truth, as usual, even if it damns her. “Sorry.” Bethany intones. Hawke puts her hand on her cheek again. “Beth...it's fine.” Her sister turns her head into that cheek, and Hawke can feel the inhalation as she smells it. “You smell different to him.” Bethany mumbles into Hawke's hand. Hawke swallows the lump in her throat, knowing this time Bethany certainly smells her sister's pussy scent, even commenting on it. She moves her hand away, worried that this is too much for her young sister, but Bethany quickly speaks out.

“Stay. Stay with me.”

The words are hurried and whispered, as if they spilled from Bethany's lips. Hawke doesn't move, her pulse pounding in her ears and between her legs. Her heart is thumping with this intimate moment. Those soft lips are slightly open still, her sister breathing a little quicker, those soft breaths washing over Hawke's face. Her blue eyes need to escape those lips, and they dart down, only to get lost in Bethany's heaving cleavage. Her breasts are heavier than her sister's, fuller. As Hawke looks, she notices the twin peaks of Bethany's nipples poking out the fabric of her shirt. 

Hawke feels the hot throbbing between her legs, even as she becomes aware her own body is acting in tandem. Her nipples are hard again, the fabric of her shift rubbing against them. She becomes aware of her panties sticking to her lips now as she shifts slightly, Bethany's soft voice eases into the silence. “I don't know if I'm doing it right.” She sounds almost ashamed. Hawke's eyes dart up to hers again, and when she talks, her voice feels like a dry whisper. “It's easy.” Her heart thunders a few more beats before the words come out of her. “I'll show you. Watch.”


	3. Techniques

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke and Bethany discuss things close to their hearts.

Hawke shifts a little so she's not directly facing her sister, even as Bethany doesn't reply. She almost can't believe she's doing this, but her head is swimming with the heady feeling of arousal and her previous path to climax. She bends slightly, hooking her thumbs under the bands of her panties. It's time to get these sodden things off, soaked with her sweat and excitement as they are. She tugs them down to her ankles, wiggling her leg to kick them off at the end of the bed. She feels a self conscious rush as she feels her scent released, the heady aroma of her self love filling her nostrils. She looks to her sister again, unknowing if her scent was just as obvious to Bethany. But Bethany's dark eyes are fixed on her.

She exhales, exalting under the eyes of her younger sister. She feels the pulse of warmth in her core, the spike of arousal. It's thrilling, this forbidden thing between them. She can practically feel herself getting wetter as she watches those dark eyes take in her form. Her muscular abdomen tenses, her shift only covering her breasts now, and she can't help but lift her hips slightly, spreading her legs, baring her sex to her little sister. Her warm thigh brushes Bethany's, the bed not being very large, but her little sister's leg is beneath the covers, and she doesn't move. Her dark eyes are fixed on Hawke's pussy.

Hawke can't wait any more. She moves her right hand down, the one furthest from Bethany, and her fingertips brush against the fuzz of her sex. Her index finger moves down to feel the hood of her clit, and the sensitive wetness causes her to shudder in pleasure. She risks a glance at Bethany, who inhales softly. Her young sister adopts a look of concentration, her eyes fixed on Hawke's pussy, as if she's watching yet focusing on something else. Then her eyes widen slightly, her lips opening. Hawke smiles indulgently, murmuring in a quiet whisper. “Good?”

She shifts her position, losing any pretence of decorum as she faces Bethany, leaning back almost out of the bed, easier to show her little sister her needy cunt. She moves her finger in a slow circle around her clit, the second finger joining it to add more pressure. She finds a soft moan escaping her own lips, unable to stop it. This brings Bethany's eyes back upwards to the face of her older sister, and Hawke feels another needy pulse inside herself. She wants this so badly. Almost on it's own, the second finger pushes itself lower, spreading her folds. She's so wet, her fingers just glide off her sex, as she guides the first fingertip into herself, into the tight warmth. Bethany's soft voice whispers to her in the sweaty darkness. “You're so wet, it goes in so easily.” Hawke's heart hammers in her chest, those words causing pleasure to tingle through her.

Bethany's face adopts a look of concentration, and she even bites her lower lip in the cute little way she does when she's focusing on a task or a spell. Hawke feels a warm pulse of love for her sister, mingling with her lust, telling her it's for Bethany's good that she's doing this. “Only put in as much as you like.” Hawke says, ducking her finger in and out up to the first knuckle, a demonstration for Bethany. The dark eyes flick down to Hawke's fluid movement. “It feels okay.” She mumbles, but the tone makes Hawke pause. “Maybe I'm not very good at it.” Bethany mumbles, and her dark eyes look up to meet Hawke's blue. “Tell me, if it's wrong?”

Hawke's heart thumps as Bethany wiggles, pulling the covers off herself and to the side. Her long shirt has been pushed up past her hips, which now Hawke thinks look wider than she noticed before. Bethany spreads her legs, her position copying her sister's, but she can lean against the wall. Hawke's eyes notice the curve of her behind as it presses into the wall, paler and less toned than her own, yet with plenty of curve to it. Her blue eyes catch on Bethany's buxom chest, squished slightly with her movement, before trailing to the dark patch of hair between her legs. Bethany seems to have trimmed herself a little, but mostly kept natural down there. Her pale hand moves, the fingers displayed the same as Hawke's, one resting on the hood of her clit, the other nudging her folds.

Hawke feels her heart pounding again, her blood rising. This is her little sister's bared cunt. She must have seen it before, yet not for a long time, and it never stirred these lustful feelings in her before. Her eyes drink in the softness of her folds, the gentle pink shapes visible even as Bethany moves her finger, gently manipulating herself. She feels the saliva build in her mouth, and she swallows, her mind flashing with the idea of her taste, would Bethany taste like herself, or like a new lover?

Hawke feels herself move impulsively, shifting on the bed, closing the inches between her and her sister. This makes her view harder, since the single bed is such a cramped existence for the two women, but she feels if she stares at her sister's cunt too long, she'll want to feast on her. “It looks fine, Beth...Doesn't it feel good?” She drags her eyes back up to Bethany's features, not staring at the closer push of Bethany's breasts straining in the shirt, and she sees her little sister with that worried look still. “I'm not as wet as you.” She murmurs. Hawke's heart creaks at her sister's worried words. “Beth, I had a head start.” She leans in as if to whisper easier, wanting to set her sister at ease, but can't quite fool herself. She wants to be closer to Bethany, to smell her scent, to feel the warmth of her.

“What were you thinking of?” Bethany's wet whisper cuts through Hawke's thoughts, and she can feel her nipples rubbing against her shift, instantly more aroused by her sister's question. She swallows again, her eyes resting on Bethany's mouth. Plump, soft, and pink, her lips begging to be kissed. “Athenril.” Hawke blurts out hurriedly, her whisper hot as it spills from her. There's a flicker of something over Bethany's face, but it's gone before Hawke can understand it. Hawke wants to keep touching herself so badly, so her fingers resume their work, as she murmurs to Bethany. “You should think of something that turns you on.” 

The next words cause Hawke to feel a tightening in her stomach, a warm quiver through her body, her path to climax opening up before her as Bethany's warm brown eyes look into hers, her soft lips whispering their secret.

“I don't need to think, I have you.”

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued!


End file.
